What these people will tell you, if you will listen, is that they got a few details wrong for entirely understandable reasons and were misled by tragically ambiguous information. So it goes, you know, they were just seeking the best for the country and for the international community, but — O alas! — they were led astray by the courage of their convictions!

Bitch, please.

It is precisely this technocratic impulse — that talking heads like Klein and Chait ought to be able to judge, with aloof sophistication, whether any aggressor is morally justified in bringing remote-controlled violence upon a distant country that happens to be governed by an unpleasant fellow who might have sponsored what Chait delicately evades into “an unconventional weapons program” — that fucked my generation squarely in the ass. You delicate handkerchief-waving weepy cunts. You sophisticated bicoastal elites send MY GODDAMN FRIENDS off to kill and die for no particular reason beyond “it is determined that something ought to be done about that Saddam fellow”. Oh, and now TEN YEARS LATER you’ve decided that it’s FASHIONABLE to express contrition. Bully the fuck for you.

But a year from now you won’t give a shit, because nobody except widows and orphans marks the eleventh anniversary of a war. You cunts. Do what’s right. Here, let me help:

Update: And while we’re on the subject of “people who contributed to the murder of my friends whom I’d love to beat to death with a crowbar, but wouldn’t, even if I was Gordon Freeman and they were reincarnated as headcrabs… well, okay, maybe then” — the purportedly-undersized Bill Keller and the smirking fuck David Frum. Laugh it off, you cancerous chuckleheads, it was a good cause wasn’t it.

Update 2: Let’s just look at what the emotionally brittle Mr. Frum wrote:

Like many Washingtonians, my wife and I had prepared an emergency kit in the basement: canned goods, bottled water, flashlights, batteries. We had an evacuation plan, a rendezvous point two hours outside the city, and a stipulated wait time after which she was to presume I was a casualty.

I live in Vancouver, you emo little fuck, that’s called “maybe we’re going to have an earthquake this decade”.

These anxieties may sound luridly overdramatic today, but they suffused the mental atmosphere of the government of the United States as President Bush made the fateful decision to launch the Iraq War.

OH NO IT MIGHT BE TEH EARTHQUAKEZ, BETTER MURDER SOME BROWN PEOPLE NAO!

Good thing you little bitches held your water during Hurricane Sandy, else the whole fuckin’ Middle East might be a glowing glass parking lot right now, amirite?

Oh wait, I ought to have waited for the very next paragraph!

Yet it was not only fear that drove the administration’s thinking about Iraq. It was also passionate enthusiasm for a new Middle East.